


Hennessy in a Teacup

by Angelsandstardust



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Blood and Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neck Kissing, Oneshot, Self-indulgent fluff, Sword Fighting, Title inspired by the quote by R.H. Sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelsandstardust/pseuds/Angelsandstardust
Summary: If there’s one thing Gregory admired most about Estella, it was her tenacious nature. She refused to back down from a challenge, regardless of how difficult it was. However, learning to open herself up to others might be the biggest challenge of all.Or, Estella learns it’s okay to be vulnerable while Gregory learns that he doesn’t have to be perfect.
Relationships: Gregory of Yardale/Estella Havisham, Gregstella
Kudos: 7





	Hennessy in a Teacup

**Author's Note:**

> More Gregstella because these two own my heart. I’m not an expert on sword fighting, so blame the internet if this is inaccurate.

“For you, my darling.”

Estella blinked as she stared at the weapon presented to her. From what she could discern, it was meticulously forged and crafted with the utmost care. She marvelled at the intricate design in silent awe, raising her eyes to meet Gregory’s. He gave her a charming smile, bowing slightly as he humbly held the sword out to her.

“Go on, take it. It’s yours, after all,” he urged her gently, sensing her hesitation.

She reached a hand out to grasp the handle, turning over the blade in her hands to further examine the details of the elegant weapon. Emerald eyes widened as they took everything in.

“Oh my—it’s beautiful,” Estella breathed. She looked at him incredulously. “Did you make this?”

“Of course,” he boasted, pride unmistakable in his rich accent. “Look at the engraving.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking to the message carved in cursive into metal and steel. Her heart skipped a beat, recognizing the affectionate nickname he had coined her.

_For My Dark Rose. ___

__A deep blush spread across her face. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble at my expense. Any sword from the armoury would suffice.”_ _

__Gregory scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, a sword isn’t just a weapon in battle, Estella. It’s practically an extended limb of the body. It must be special, and you deserve only the finest.”_ _

__“Did Christophe get a custom sword when you taught him?” She inquired, a coy smirk on her painted lips._ _

__“As a matter of fact, yes,” he answered. “It’s a shame he never uses it, a sword is far more practical than a muddy, rusty old shovel.” He frowned with disdain, lamenting hours of wasted effort in lieu of a simple gardening tool._ _

__“I didn’t expect to be sparring during my first lesson—with an actual sword, nonetheless,” she admitted._ _

__“There’s no reason to be nervous, darling. I assure you, you’re in capable hands. I have been perfecting my skills since I was a young schoolboy. I practice three hours every day just to ensure they’re polished. You have nothing to fear.”_ _

__“I fear nothing,” she affirmed, her eyes narrowed with conviction._ _

__“So it would seem,” Gregory chuckled to himself in amusement. “Tell me, Estella, how knowledgeable are you in the art of fencing?”_ _

__“I’ve read my share of research in the archives and watched you spar with Christophe on occasion.”_ _

__“Mm yes, the sword is the axis of the world and its power is absolute,” he cited with a grin._ _

__Estella rolled her eyes as he launched into a long-winded monologue about the importance of swordsmanship. Gregory had quite the silver tongue; he enjoyed rambling about his passions quite often. Although she often feigned indifference, she found herself fascinated by the information just as she did now. She would never admit that to him, however._ _

__The smaller blonde tied back her hair into a loose ponytail and proceeded to follow him into the gardens, surveying the colourful assortment of flowers flanking them on both sides of all varieties._ _

__Gregory faced her, sweeping a hand through his curls and slicking them back out of his face. He unsheathed his cutlass from his belt and held it up for her to see. She squinted as the sunlight glinted off of the blade, shielding herself from the near blinding glare. Gregory looked to be in his element; standing proudly before her, the soft rays of the sun highlighting his golden tresses, his sword held towards the heavens like a valiant knight readying himself to charge into battle._ _

__“Before we begin, we need to cover the basics, such as how to properly hold a sword. You want to maintain a firm grip on the handle to prevent it from slipping during battle, like so.”_ _

__He demonstrated the proper technique, Estella mirroring him. Her delicate fingers closed around the handle and gripped it tightly. Gregory nodded his approval, moving to the proper stance._ _

__“Now, you’re going to want to spread your feet for better balance, but not too far. Keep your stance wide and your body lowered.” She watched his footwork and followed it tentatively as he walked her through the steps._ _

__“Right foot, then left foot as you move forward—eyes on me.“_ _

__She looked up, meeting his eyes and nodded. “Alright, I think I got it.”_ _

__“We’ll start with a simple lunge and parry.”_ _

__They proceeded through the starter moves, Gregory showing Estella how to wield her sword. His touch was firm but gentle as he guided her arm from behind. His breath ghosted her neck, eliciting a shiver from the smaller blonde. The inviting fragrance of Armani cologne tickled her nostrils as she breathed it in deep. She fervently fought back the heat rising in her cheeks and tried to focus on the lesson._ _

__“If you allow yourself to get distracted on the battlefield, you could easily be bested by your opponent,” Gregory chided, whispering huskily in her ear. Estella stiffened, her eyes widening._ _

__“Concentrate, my dark rose. You don’t want to give your opponent leverage to use against you.”_ _

__“Maybe I could without you breathing down my neck, you pompous piss stain,” she hissed in return. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards into an impish smile._ _

__“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Is this distracting you?”_ _

__He started pressing featherlight kisses down her neck, enunciating each word with his lips against her skin. Estella flinched and grit her teeth, her face flushing a darker shade of red._ _

__“I won’t hesitate to stab you.”_ _

__“My, aren’t we feeling ambitious,” he jeered, separating himself from her. “It’s cute how you think you can best me, although naive. You mustn’t act rashly, Estella. Every move has a consequence. Think of it as a game of chess, because that’s really what it comes down to wits and strategy. Every move you make must be concise and thought out. Never underestimate what your opponent is capable of doing.”_ _

__He readied his sword. “Let’s see you follow through on your idle threat. Try and strike me.”_ _

__Estella raised a dubious brow at him but followed through on his request. She swung her sword towards him, Gregory nimbly blocking it with expert precision. Metal clashed against metal as their weapons collided. They progressed through the attacks, striking and evading the advances of the other as he instructed her on what to do._ _

__“You’re a fast learner. I’m impressed, you’re faring far better than Christophe during his first lesson.” He caught the blade and forced it back. Estella retaliated, lunging again. He swiftly blocked her once more._ _

__“Excellent form, keep this up and you’ll be an expert fighter in no time.”_ _

__“Do you really think so?” She beamed at the praise, parrying his attack._ _

__“Indeed. Now, let’s pick up the pace a little. The most crucial part of sword fighting is your footwork. It’s almost like dancing, only you’re trying to disarm your opponent, rather than seduce them.”_ _

__“Well, I’m quite the multitasker,” she smirked lasciviously, her eyes half-lidded as she lowered her voice. “There is more than one way to incapacitate someone, St. Clair.”_ _

__“I hardly think now is the time for wooing,” he spoke curtly, although the hint of blush rising across his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed._ _

__“Hm, you’re only saying that because you know I’ll win. I’m quite adept in my craft.”_ _

__“I won’t argue that, but you really should watch what you’re doing,” he admonished her, dodging the blade as it sliced the air beside him. “You could’ve taken off my head just now, I’d prefer not to be your next victim after what you did to those poor bunnies.”_ _

__Estella rolled her eyes. “Please stop bringing that up, I was ten. Surely you’ve done questionable things at such an age, you bloated sheep’s pancreas.”_ _

__“I led my first rebellion against the unjust, I still remember it well,” he recounted fondly, ignoring the insult. “I wouldn’t call it questionable, however. I merely did what I thought was right.”_ _

__“I’ve heard the tales. You were a fool to risk your life for a couple of talentless cacks from Canada.”_ _

__“I suppose I’m a fool for a lot of things, then.”_ _

__“You are...but that’s what I admire about you,” she admitted softly._ _

__“Is that a compliment?” Gregory quipped with a knowing smile. “Goodness, Estella, don’t tell me you’re going soft.”_ _

__She scoffed. “Of course not, you festering decayed monkey scrotum—“ she hissed and quickly covered her arm, feeling a stinging pain lance through it._ _

__“Estella, are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Gregory lowered his sword in alarm and sheathed it. Gently, he removed her hand to inspect the wound. Estella winced and recoiled, cursing under her breath._ _

__“I’m fine, you just caught me off guard is all,” she muttered, staring unfazed at the dark red stain blooming through her sleeve. “It’s only a scratch.”_ _

__Gregory frowned, his face a mixture of concern. “I should have been more careful, I’m so sorry. Please forgive my absentmindedness. Come, let’s go back inside so I can properly dress it.” His voice was ripe with remorse as he started to guide her back towards the house, despite her protests._ _

__“Stop fussing over me, I’m fine. What about the lesson?”_ _

__“We can finish it another time.” He sat her down and fetched a first aid kit, returning a moment later with it in hand. “Can you roll up your sleeve?”_ _

__“I can take care of it myself, it’s my fault for not paying attention,” she insisted. Her eyes watched him intently as he gingerly took her hand away and examined the cut with a small frown._ _

__“It shouldn’t require stitches,” he surmised, mumbling to himself._ _

__He daubed it lightly with a cotton swab, cleaning the gash and surrounding area of blood. Estella grimaced from the pain but bared it, flinching only slightly as he tentatively began wrapping her arm with gauze. She continued to stare at him in silence, eying his movements. Once finished, he secured the bandage and pressed a gentle kiss to it. Her heart fluttered from the action, a part of her yearning for more of his affectionate touches. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to voice her inner desires, however._ _

__“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him brusquely, her voice clipped._ _

__Gregory looked at her. “Tending a wound with only one hand is not an easy task. I know from experience.”_ _

__She shrugged her shoulder half heartedly, “it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to fix myself up.”_ _

__He regarded her for a moment, his lips pursed into a thin line. “Your mother..?”_ _

__She looked up, meeting his eyes but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, he knew. He recognized that wounded, guarded look anywhere. He hated seeing it on her._ _

__“That’s why you wanted to learn...isn’t it?”_ _

__She averted her eyes, unable to hold his emphatic gaze. “Please stop looking at me like that, I can’t bear to see the pity in your eyes.”_ _

__“It’s not pity.”_ _

__She said nothing, focusing on the sword in her lap as she traced the intricate patterns with her fingertip. Gregory took it and set it aside._ _

__“Estella, look at me,” he pleaded, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Her eyes slowly flickered up to his, although hesitant. He held her gaze, his cerulean eyes dark and earnest._ _

__“I would never pity you, pity is reserved only for beggars and those who can’t help themselves. You’re perhaps one of the strongest people I know. Not many could take a blade to the arm and brush it off like that. Even Christophe cursed me out and threatened to hit me with his shovel the first time,” Gregory laughed a little at the memory. His hand moved to hold her chin, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear._ _

__“I admire that most about you, Estella. Never forget that.”_ _

__Estella smiled faintly, leaning forward to close the gap between them with a soft, chaste kiss. “Stupid boy,” she pressed her forehead against his, her smile broadening. “I fancy you to say that with all of the people you court.”_ _

__“Only you, darling,” he smiled in return, wrapping his arms around her, mindful not to jostle her arm._ _

__She leaned into his embrace, pressing a kiss to his neck before resting her head against it, idly twirling his pendant around her fingers. Gregory held her close, relishing the moment as he carded his fingers through her soft, golden hair. His eyes drifted down to her arm, frowning at the small spots that had bled through the gauze. Estella shifted, feeling his gaze. She turned her head to look up at him._ _

__“You act as if you’ve never seen an injury before,” she remarked, disrupting his thoughts._ _

__“I don’t like seeing you hurt.”_ _

__“It will heal.”_ _

__He bit his lip, avoiding her eyes. Estella sighed, reaching up to caress his face. “Stop beating yourself up over this. You treat me as if I’m made of porcelain. I can handle a cut, you ninny.”_ _

__“I just can’t help but to think about what might’ve happened had I—“ he paused and swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I could have severely harmed you.”_ _

__Her face softened at his distress, she brushed her thumb across his cheek, her voice soft and crooning. “Yet you didn’t. Have a little more faith in yourself, darling. I wouldn’t have asked you to teach me if I didn’t trust your capabilities. Sword fighting is a dangerous sport, I’m aware of the risk. Not everything can be within your control, despite how much you’ve considered the variables, there’s still room for error.”_ _

__“I’m not supposed to make mistakes.”_ _

__“Stop speaking nonsense, you’re a man not a machine.”_ _

__“....”_ _

__“...This is about more than just my arm, isn’t it?”_ _

__He didn’t answer, although she could feel him tense up, gripping her tighter, almost protectively. His eyes held a clouded look within them as if he were reliving a distant memory._ _

__“Gregory—“ she began. He blinked as if coming out of a daze, focusing on her once more._ _

__“I just don’t want to hurt you is all,” he mumbled despondently. “I would never forgive myself if you died by my hands.”_ _

__“Died? Now you’re overdoing it.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Why must you be so overdramatic? Look at me, dear. I’m perfectly fine, stop fretting over it. The only person to blame for my carelessness is me, no one else.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, cease your mopping, Captain. It’s unbecoming of you.”_ _

__The corner of his mouth twitched upward at the pet name, a light blush blooming across his face. “How can I possibly stay unhappy with you around?”_ _

__“Simple, you can’t. I won’t allow it.”_ _

__He smiled wryly, kissing her again. “Your stubbornness never ceases to amuse me. Are you sure you wish to try again?”_ _

__She nodded. “You know it takes an awful lot to deter me from something once I set my mind on it. I want to see this through, besides I couldn’t let such a lovely sword go to waste.”_ _

__He chuckled, helping her stand. “If that’s what you desire, then we can continue. Perhaps with props first and make our way to steel once you’re experienced enough. Consider it a compromise of sorts.”_ _

__Estella shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m in capable hands, remember?”_ _

__“You still trust me?” His voice wavered with uncertainty. She grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, smiling softly._ _

__“Of course I do, you foolish man. One mistake doesn’t change anything. It’s hardly a blemish on your record.”_ _

__“My father would say otherwise,” he murmured meekly with a frown._ _

__“You no longer have to prove yourself to him, or anyone else for that matter. I’m sorry that you feel like you do.”_ _

__“Old habits die hard, I suppose.” He straightened up and cleared his throat. “Let’s continue the lesson, shall we?”_ _

__Estella could see that he no longer wanted to linger on the topic. It was a sore subject for him, she knew not to pry into it just as he knew not to prod her about her own past. There was a mutual understanding between them, so they let it be. If either wanted to talk about it then they could, otherwise, it would remain untouched._ _

__Estella followed Gregory into the garden where they resumed their lesson, this time with little incident. Afterwards, he decided a reward was in order and treated her to a lunch date with the freshly baked scones and pastries he had baked prior to their lesson, along with a bottle of wine he had kept stored in the cellar for a special occasion._ _

__The sun was beginning to descend beyond the horizon; soft hues of pink and orange merging and blending together as the waning rays cast its golden light upon the two. They admired the view together, hands clasped over the table they were sitting at. Estella had just started to top up her glass when Gregory asked her a question._ _

__“Have you decided what you’re going to name it yet?”_ _

__“Name what?” She raised an eyebrow inquisitively._ _

__“Why, your sword of course. A weapon of such caliber should be christened with a title fitting for it.”_ _

__“People actually do that?” She blinked._ _

__“Naturally. They name their vehicles and ships, why should a sword be any different?”_ _

__“Have you named your sword?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer._ _

__“Liberty,” he replied with a modest smile. Estella snorted back a giggle, cupping a hand over her mouth._ _

__“I should have guessed.”_ _

__“Hush, I was five.”_ _

__“You were five and your parents let you handle a sword?”_ _

__“It would have been much sooner hadn’t my mother interfered. My father wanted me to be prepared. The world is an unforgiving mistress and we are not but soldiers on the battlefield,” he quoted sourly, sipping from his glass._ _

__She shook her head incredulously, rubbing her forehead. “And I thought my mother was insane.”_ _

__He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Enough about that, what would you like to name your sword?”_ _

__She thought for a moment, nursing her glass of wine. “Hell’s Scream.”_ _

__“Are you sure? It’s rather unorthodox.”_ _

__“Which makes it perfect,” she affirmed with a grin._ _

__“Well...alright. If you insist. To Hell’s Scream, may she strike fear in the hearts of all who oppose her,” he announced, lifting his glass in a toast. She mirrored him, clinking their glasses together._ _

__“I’ll drink to that.”_ _

__Gregory watched her toss back her drink with a fond smile. Not many had earned the privilege of seeing this side of the blonde; the real Estella hidden beneath the stuffy uptight persona she often wore around others. They both had a reputation to upkeep in public, both rearing from wealthy families and burdened with unrealistic expectations. When it was just the two of them together, they were free to be themselves. They were each other’s sanctuary._ _

__As cliche as it sounded, he cherished those moments, falling more in love with the woman who stole his heart at the first meeting. Her kisses were intoxicating, leaving him breathless and desperate for more. Feeling her slim, delicate fingers tangling in his hair was a euphoric sensation no drug could hope to stimulate._ _

__She was like Hennessy in a teacup, wild but safe. Strong, but oh so beautiful. She was the sweetest symphony, the most well-written prose. To put it into simpler terms, she was his everything and he was hers. Although she preferred to be more discreet about her affections, it was endearing, nonetheless._ _

__“What are you smiling at like that?” Estella’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up, meeting her curious expression._ _

__“Ah, nothing, dearest.” He chuckled to himself, taking another sip of his wine as she raised a brow at him. “Nothing at all.”_ _


End file.
